𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐱!! ☆
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a series of seasonal one shot. one for ross, george, matty each for every season ♡︎
please read tws on each individual story before proceeding.
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⚝...
✮ cw: brief suggestive content but no actual smut. being ill i suppose but it's very mild and fluffy. also pls we're going to suspend our disbelief here because i have no idea what being a florist entails.
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they get together at the beginning of winter.
the last of the leaves are already a deep shade of orange, falling and falling everyday until the trees go barren and white snowflakes start fluttering all around. they're already exclusive by the time the first proper snow of the season falls.
ross is a boyfriend. to the girl of his dreams. it makes him feel as giddy as a teenager every time he thinks about it; every time she gives him a sweet smile and an even sweeter kiss.
he always holds her hand just a little tighter, cuddles her closer just a little longer every time she has to go—he's making up for the lost time, he thinks. all the time he's wasted being stupid and a coward. and so whenever she stays over he stays near her, follows her around from room to room. she finds it infinitely amusing, so endearing that she can't help but kiss him every two minutes for it.
a florist's job is pretty slow in the winter. ross learns that quite early on in their relationship when he gets to take the slow days extra slow—cuddling on the sofa and dancing in the kitchen and every other cheesy thing he can think of.
he fucking adores the slow mornings after she stays over—loves waking up with her in his arms, loves the slow, lazy morning sex where she's moaning and squirming and cumming on his cock barely awake, loves how she looks at him with sleepy eyes hooded with lust.
"'s gonna be so awful when my job picks up again and the spring weddings start happening," she says one morning while they're in bed still, her head on his chest. ross hums. "you'll be lucky if you see me two days in a row."
he pouts. "it's not that busy is it?"
"it is! so many new flowers coming into the shop and scott wants us to make sure each one of them is absolutely perfect. individually. fuck and the pollen—you're not allergic to pollen are you? because i get so covered in it..."
ross racks his brain. maybe he does remember being a bit more sniffly in spring but nothing severe. it's never been noteworthy. he shrugs and holds her tighter. "nah, don't think so. it can't be that bad though."
she laughs mirthlessly. "you don't know the half of it. my ex was so allergic i had to stay away for all of spring pretty much. like three months every year where i'd move back in with my parents because it was just that bad for him."
he pretty much stops listening halfway through, stuck on the part where she had to stay away for three whole months. he can barely stay away half the week.
"don't have to worry about that," he strokes her hair, brushing off the silly unwanted thoughts.
and it turns out to be true—even when she stays in the shop longer, busy catering to new year's parties and other events, ross hardly ever has a reaction to it. it's blown out of proportion, he thinks. sure pollen allergies are real, but they must be incredibly rare.
